Honor for my Brothers
by Leila Secret-Smith
Summary: The Dragonborn has had more than enough of Tullius and Ulfric, especially when they truly begin to dishonor her dead brothers. Set during Season Unending. Oneshot.


Alea Spellweaver, a nineteen-year-old Breton and reluctant Arch-mage of the College of Winterhold, groaned under her breath and pressed her forehead to the cold stone table. Tullius and Ulfric were squabbling like children. _Worse than Onmund and Keira,_ she moaned to herself, referring to her husband and adopted older sister. Her patience was rapidly beginning to wane, which was remarkable in and of itself considering her normally calm and even temper. From the chair next to hers, Legate Rikke cast her a sympathetic look.

Finally, Alea couldn't stand it anymore.

"ENOUGH!" she roared, leaping up from her chair, eyes flashing. Dust shook loose from the ceiling at the force of her shout. Both Ulfric and Tullius fell silent, shocked by the dragon-fire in her normally serene green eyes. She slammed her palm down on the table with a loud crack, frost spreading down the whole stone oval as she transferred her anger into magic.

"FOOLS!" She brought her other hand down to punctuate the insult, doubling the coating of ice. Anyone who'd had their hands on the table rapidly withdrew them. The mage paused and took a deep breath, closing her eyes. When she reopened them, the anger had not abated, but instead turned colder and more dangerous.

"Fools, the both of you," she repeated, her voice a dragon-like growl. "Do you not understand," she said, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous timbre, as she pushed up off the table to stand upright, "the nature of our situation?"

Her eyes flickered between Tullius and Ulfric as she spoke. "Do you not understand" -Once again, her voice rose in anger- "that this is bigger than any battle of egos you two ice-brains could possibly be involved in? The whole world in danger!" She bared her teeth, the shadows from the flickering fire making her normally soft appearance nothing short of terrifying. "Yet you two still sit here squabbling like children! Fools! Idiots!"

Both of the men looked affronted, but Alea wasn't anywhere near done.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Legate Rikke smirking.

"I almost died less than a week ago at the top of this very mountain you sit upon! I almost _died!_ A _female mage_ that has only seen _nineteen_ summers almost _died_ to save your _pathetic _behinds!" She brought her fist down on the table again, the stone literally cracking under the force of her rage. "And yet here you sit, insulting me with your petty squabbles! I SHOULD END YOU ALL HERE AND NOW! I SHOULD LET ALDUIN FILL HIS SOTMACH WITH YOUR SOULS, NOT THOSE OF THE SOLDIERS YOU DISHONOR HERE!"

She abruptly stopped, bowing her head and laying her other palm on the broken stone for support. Rikke saw what the others couldn't: a drop of moisture rolled down the dragonborn's cheek, falling to the table and darkening the ice.

"It should be _you_ in Sovengard, not them."

Her voice came quiet but strong after a pregnant pause, filled with grief and anger. "My brothers are likely consumed now, just like Keira's birth sister. And yet you seem to have forgotten that they died on both sides _for you_." Finally, she looked up, her eyes shining in the firelight, her voice filled with disgust.

"If you cannot strike this truce in the name of my sacrifice, and possibly my death, then I at least ask that you bow your pride for the sake of the men and women who died in service to their people." Another tear fell from her eye, but this time she let them see, almost as a challenge to their sincerity.

"I will have no part in this." The Dragonborn stood upright once more and removed her Arch-mage hood and circlet, placing both deliberately on the table. Her voice was quiet and husky, difficult to hear, but in some way that made it all the more fearful. "When you have agreed to stop dishonoring those you claim to fight for, come find me. I shall be meditating in the main hall."

She left without a word.


End file.
